Story Idea Collection
by PantherHearts
Summary: Essentially, this is where I'm going to upload all those plot bunnies that itch to be written but can't be continued... yet (and may be continued in the foreseeable future). Feel free to adopt/continue, as long as you leave a review/PM and a link. Currently: 'Dying Will Disease'
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome, I suppose? Anyway, this is where I'm going to dump all my plot bunnies of various fandoms, and I may or may not continue some of them. If you would like to continue one, just leave a review or PM and I'll approve. Just leave a link! :)**

 **Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!)  
** **Idea: Tsuna has lived in an orphanage for the first fifteen years of his life. On the day of his 15th birthday, two people come to the orphanage and suddenly, Tsuna isn't an orphan anymore. Now, he has to cope to this new, grand lifestyle in Italy, where he's respected and revered and has thousands, if not millions, of subordinates. He meets lots of people, and also becomes reacquainted with two past childhood friends.**

The orphanage itself wasn't such a horrible place. It wasn't dark, it wasn't dreary, and the floorboards didn't creak. The orphanage headmistress wasn't a cruel child-labor supporter—she was actually very nice, and liked to treat the children to fun surprises and activities.

No, the orphanage was fine.

It was the other children in it that made Tsuna shudder. He'd been at the orphanage since he was born, and the only explanation ever given to him about why he was there was because 'his parents died.'

Well, he could've figured that out himself, but maybe it was a gruesome, horror story that he couldn't have heard yet, since he was five when he first asked that question.

But now Tsuna was fourteen, and still the only facts given were 'your parents died.'

And when he asked the Headmistress, she'd shaken her head and said, "That's all I know, dear." The Headmistress was a very honest, well-brought-up lady, and Tsuna somehow knew that she wasn't lying.

It was all very mysterious, but Tsuna had long since resigned himself to growing up in an orphanage forever, and he no longer wished for anybody to come up and say that they were some long-lost relative, smile kindly at him, and take him to a cozy home where he'd be able to live a proper life with a proper family at last.

The other kids at the orphanage were rather bitter, and while there were a few with sunny personalities, about half of them had arrived not directly after they were born, but when they were well past the age of five.

Seeing these children made Tsuna feel glad that he'd never seen his parents, because it was definitely easier not to miss them, or feel horribly sad and depressed that way.

One day, when Tsuna had summoned enough courage to tell Headmistress about his situation, she'd looked sad and said, "They're suffering from Post-Traumatic Syndrome, dear. It's best to allow them to let it out, or they'd keep it all cooped up and possibly develop mental issues. I'm terribly sorry that they chose to take it out on you though, dear. I'll try to change it as much as I can."

It hadn't stopped, though. It didn't help that Tsuna was smaller and shorter, even if he was the oldest of the children at the orphanage.

There used to be older children at the orphanage who'd been nice to him, taught him things, and played with him when Tsuna was little, but they were all five to ten years older than him and had long since gone on to work or go to university.

Now, the second oldest was a boy named Keiji who was fourteen. He'd arrived when he was ten, and had spent the first month cooped in his room and silent.

After the month passed, Keiji suddenly began to talk to people and while he was rude, Headmistress said he was 'improving' so Tsuna let him be.

That was until Keiji laughed at Tsuna for accidentally hitting his index finger with a hammer during an activity and didn't stop laughing even as Tsuna's finger turned a grossly purple color and began to bleed.

Now Keiji laughed at him for everything, and Tsuna doubted that he'd ever forget that mocking laugh.

There hadn't been anything physically done until almost half a year later, when Headmistress announced that everyone would be getting weekly chocolates since she felt they deserved a prize.

It happened that Tsuna had after-class chores to do, which meant he came to the dining table for his chocolate half an hour late. There would be a bar of chocolate waiting on the table, and Tsuna began to look forward to the weekly chocolate since chocolate had quickly become his favorite snack.

And so Tsuna was satisfied with his life as it was, with his weekly consumptions of chocolate.

A bit after this practice started, Tsuna was called to a meeting at the orphanage after school, which was why his chores were delayed and he arrived on time, ready to receive the bar of chocolate.

To his immense joy (and slight suspicion for no detectable reason), when the children sat down around the table and Headmistress merrily swept around, doling out chocolate, Tsuna got two bars instead of one.

"Why do we have an extra bar today, Headmistress?" he asked, surprised but not entirely unpleased.

The Headmistress paused in her steps and frowned. "Don't you always get two, Tsuna?"

Tsuna shook his head.

"Maybe Keiji has made a mistake. You get two every week, dear! Perhaps there was a shortage of chocolate? I'm sorry, dear, I'll give you an extra bar this time to make up for it," she smiled apologetically.

Tsuna was ecstatic to get more chocolate, and three bars no less, but a part of him realized that Keiji had been the one in charge of distributing his chocolate to him.

That meant that Keiji had been taking Tsuna's second bar of chocolate for himself.

Tsuna did a quick mental calculation and found that this meant that Tsuna had currently missed out on _six bars of chocolate_. He was not pleased, but there really wasn't anything he could do, or dared to do about it.

Well, Keiji shot him a nasty look (which was unfair, since he was the one who had been stealing Tsuna's chocolate), but Tsuna always got two bars for the following months.

Birthdays were something that was rarely celebrated in the orphanage. Headmistress tried her best to remember, but there were thirty-seven kids and that was a lot of dates to remember. Plus, if there was a birthday to be celebrated, Headmistress liked to make it grand and fun so the kid could have at least one memorable birthday party.

As a result, there were about three birthdays celebrated each year, and it took a long cycle before you got to celebrate your own birthday again. Headmistress was a very fair woman, and she hated it when things got unbalanced in the orphanage. And angry Headmistress was someone who you didn't ever want to awaken, and all the newcomers in the orphanage had been taught this.

But today was October 14th and Tsuna was turning fifteen, and it was finally his turn again to celebrate his birthday in a big blowout event (as much as Headmistress could make it, anyway).

The other children were instructed to be nice and cheery, and everyone obliged because they wanted this to happen on their birthday too. Even Keiji complied, though his well-wishes seemed rather mocking.

Tsuna accepted them anyways, because fake or not, they were likely to be the best compliment-esque comment he'd ever get from the other boy.

The morning was cloudy and pretty dismal, but Tsuna pulled open the plum colored curtains and dressed for the day with amounting excitement. He tucked his lucky gloves in his pocket. They were more like mittens, but gloves sounded cooler, so Tsuna called them gloves instead.

The gloves were white and red, with the number 27 emblazoned in red wool on each identical mitten—glove. Tsuna had no idea where they'd come from, since they'd been found in a trunk that Headmistress said his deceased father wished to pass on to him.

When Tsuna had his gloves, good things happened. On a particularly memorable day, a passing orange cat had decided to stalk over and piss elegantly on a yelling Keiji's foot. Tsuna found the cat quite striking, and it seemed to have smirked at him as it walked away from Keiji with the grace of a proud lion, its amber and fiery orange eyes glittering in the sun.

Tsuna had never seen the cat again, but he vowed to treat it to some of the fresh tuna and milk there always was in the fridge if it ever came by the orphanage in its dignified manner.

Tsuna was almost hopping with glee as he dashed out of the one-man bedroom that he used (Headmistress said he was old enough to have his own room, and there was an extra one anyway), and skidded down the stairs, swinging around the banister with a practiced ease.

Banister-sliding or swinging had been an action taught to him by the older orphanage children. When Tsuna first learned, he fell off the majority of the time and tended to stumble every time he attempted the action.

It had been two, or more correctly, one of a duo, who taught him how to slide down the banister. To Tsuna's dismay, he could no longer remember their names. All he could remember that it had been a blonde who had taught him this—an energetic one, just as clumsy as Tsuna was, who was always full of smiles.

The other one was, as Tsuna remembered, a very grumpy person. He shouted a lot, and had gravity-defying white hair and a habit of waving sharp sticks around in the air.

But he was a good person, and Tsuna was absolutely grateful to both of them as they had been like big brothers to him. In fact, he was a little brother to both of them—the blonde one would call him 'little bro' affectionately, while the white haired one would just huff, but Tsuna knew he accepted Tsuna as a brother.

But now, ten years later, they'd gone away, searching for their own life to lead, and all Tsuna had to remember of them was the act of sliding on the banister. It had become almost absent-minded and Tsuna could slide down and hop off the worn, smooth wooden banister without even thinking.

The long table was bending under the weight of the multiple dishes of savory breakfast items piled on plates all over it. It was a magnificent spread—even better than the other birthdays. Headmistress said it was because Tsuna had been here forever, and this was the second birthday he'd celebrated! He deserved something special.

Tsuna thudded into his usual seat and eagerly helped himself to the eggs, bacon, waffles, buttered croissants, and even ice cream with the same ferocity and speed as the orphanage children beside and across him.

Breakfast was very satisfying.

Headmistress allowed them to play the entire morning, and they had barbeque and ice cream cake for lunch. In the afternoon, she herded them onto a bus and took all of them to the center of the city, where they wandered around the square and _oohed_ and _aahed_ over things displayed in shop windows.

Then it was four, and they returned to the orphanage in the same bus, exhausted and with their curiosity thoroughly satisfied.

Headmistress was last out of the bus and she briskly walked past them to unlock the door, only to find it already unlocked. She looked surprised for a moment before saying doubtfully, "I must have forgotten to lock the door…"

Then she pushed open the door and went in, turning on the lights. "All right, children," she began until everyone looked behind her and widened their eyes in surprise.

Headmistress turned around and noticed the bright light of the living area turned on. "Did I forget to turn those lights off as well?" she wondered, slipping off her heels and walking over to the doorframe, before freezing in surprise.

There were two dark shapes sitting in the armchairs, but Tsuna couldn't make them out from the distance. One was a woman, but the other was a man with slightly spiky hair.

There was a scuffling sound as every child kicked off their shoes and stampeded to the doorway to peer curiously into the room.

Tsuna managed to secure a spot somewhere in the middle, but the mass of curious bodies blocking the doorway made it hard to see. He could only make up the tops of their heads. The woman was a brunette, with a hair color disturbingly similar to Tsuna's, while the old man had grey hair.

Headmistress regained most of her composure and said awkwardly, "Er, hello. Excuse me, but who are you?" she inquired, looking wary. "Pardon me for my bluntness, but I'm fairly sure there would be no visitors today—it's one of the children's birthday, you see."

"Oh, we know that all too well," the old man said, chuckling. "We're sorry for coming into your orphanage so suddenly and without warning, but it was quite urgent. Please excuse us for our rudeness. I'm Timoteo, and this is Nana."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Headmistress said politely. "I'm Suzuki Akiko, the headmistress of this orphanage."

"Thank you so much for taking care of Tsu-kun for all these years! I can't ever repay you," the woman suddenly burst out.

Tsu-kun?

Nobody else in the orphanage had a name that started with 'Tsu.'

That meant that…

"Are you… looking for someone?" Headmistress suddenly looked excited. "I'm so glad one of my children now has a home to cherish!"

"Yes, we're looking for Sawada Tsunayoshi," Timoteo nodded with a grandfatherly smile, and the glare on the back of Tsuna's neck from Keiji made him go cold.

"Tsuna?" Headmistress asked, delighted. "Oh, so he finally has some relatives as a family! Do come forward, dear," she said, turning to the crowd of children.

The children parted to let Tsuna through, and he noticed the woman, Nana, let out a small gasp as her hands covered her mouth and her eyes began to fill up with tears.

Tsuna had no desire to watch a woman cry, though, so he fidgeted awkwardly.

Now that he saw them up close, he noticed that the woman's eyes were just like those that stared back at him every day in the mirror, and they had the same shade of hair.

The woman leapt up from the couch and dashed over the coffee table to encase him in a warm hug, and Tsuna suddenly felt that this was _right_ , and he felt _accepted_ , and that this woman was obviously someone very, very important to him, even if he didn't know it yet.

Headmistress took a polite step backwards, out of the doorframe, even though it was clear in her expression that she was rather puzzled by this turn of events.

Nana let go and held Tsuna at arm's length to examine him as tears began to leave glittering trails down her cheeks.

"You've grown up so much," she sobbed. "I regret every moment of not being able to be by your side and help you grow up, Tsu-kun…."

Tsuna wore a bewildered expression on his face and the old man, Timoteo, noticed.

"It's a complicated story," he said gravely, "Filled with a lot of dangers. We spent all these fifteen years trying to find you, Tsunayoshi… and imagine our joy when we found you at last."

Tsuna didn't understand, and it must have shown on his face because Timoteo began again. "You were born in a room full of adoring relatives, friends, and cousins," he said, "And everyone wanted to see the little newborn baby. It was a joyous fifteen minutes, all until the nurses took you away to be bathed and prepared for the journey home."

Nana sat down on a sofa and patted the seat beside her, where Tsuna sat. Headmistress and all the other children seemed to have sidled an inch or two further into the room, eager to hear the story.

"Everyone waited with bated breath for a smiling nurse to appear with you in her arms, but after half an hour, nobody appeared, and everyone began to get antsy and worried. It didn't take long after that for a group of panicked and very stressed security guards to run in and inform everyone that the baby was missing, and he'd been snatched from a nurse's arms while she was on the way back."

Tsuna listened in a sort of daze, almost unable to comprehend the story that Timoteo was telling in a solemn tone.

Timoteo continued, "Needless to say, your father was outraged. He demanded to know what happened and why they hadn't been informed of this sooner. The security guards' answer was because they'd seen the culprit, and they'd almost caught him until he raced out into the open and jumped into a waiting helicopter, which lifted up and flew away. The security guards were, of course, unable to catch a flying helicopter and it was only then that they reported back to your family."

"I was… kidnapped?" Tsuna asked.

"Indeed," Timoteo said, "The kidnapper vanished without a trace and it took us a total of fifteen years to trace your location to the orphanage where you are now. We had no idea of knowing if you were alive, dead, or imprisoned, and no lead to where you could be. The kidnapper did a very good job of hiding your location," the old man informed Tsuna, who was still struggling with this influx of startling, unbelievable information.

Maybe this was a dream?

"So, Tsuna," Timoteo said, smiling slightly, "Your parents are not, as you might have believed, dead. They are in fact very much alive," here all the children breathed a sharp gasp of shock and slight jealousy, "and your mother is actually right here in front of you."

Tsuna slowly turned to look at the brown-haired woman, Nana. Was this why it had felt so right when she'd hugged him? This woman was his mother? His parents were alive?

"I hope you'll allow us to take us to your home in Italy," Timoteo said, "Where your friends and family are eagerly waiting for your arrival. They've all been worried about you, Sawada Tsunayoshi."

"I'll be going to Italy?" Tsuna asked dumbly. "I have…. Family?"

"A lot of family, too, Tsuna," Timoteo smiled the same grandfatherly smile, "And they're all waiting your return. While the past years may have led you to believe that you have no family willing to take you in, we've always been searching for our son, grandson, cousin, or nephew."

Even as the old man was saying this, the only thought running through Tsuna's mind was, _'I'm Italian?'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!**

 **Idea: Powerful Mafioso are dropping dead left and right. There's just one problem: What's killing them? After discovering the source of the deaths, Tsuna and his Guardians have yet another life-or-death situation on their hands, because their Flames are eating them from inside out.**

 **Author's Notes: It's pretty sad, in my opinion anyway.**

* * *

 **Email**

The evening sun streamed in through the partially-drawn red curtains, leaving strips of light across the Decimo's study. It was quiet, except for the sound of rustling paper and the occasional yawn.

A loud ringtone broke through the suffocating silence, and Tsuna dropped the pen onto the floor in his haste to pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

The caller's voice sounded scratchy and worn out. "Decimo?"

"Shamal!" Tsuna said, worry lines creasing his forehead. "How's the research going?"

"It's… bad," the doctor said, "I'm sorry. It's a bad time for me to deliver even worse news, but I'm afraid it's now or never."

"Have you discovered the source of the deaths?" Tsuna asked, trying and failing to hide the tone of urgency in his voice.

"Yes, but… it the situation isn't very good," the normally flirtatious doctor admitted with a weary sigh. "I'm sending the details to you now."

"Thank you. Your help is much appreciated," Tsuna said honestly, and they hung up.

The brunette had shadows under his eyes and there was a blanket of grief covering the normally upbeat and cheerful Vongola Mansion.

In the past weeks, the most powerful Mafioso had mysteriously died, falling over dead during the most inopportune times. At the beginning, they'd suspected mass assassination attempts, but it had been ruled out once there wasn't a trace of harm on the victim's body.

What worried the Vongola the most, though, was that their boss might die as well.

There was a common trait in the deaths. Those that had suddenly passed away with no signs of physical harm on the outside were all a part of the stronger Mafia community, and they all used Dying Will Flames.

Their boss definitely counted as part of the upper Mafia society in terms of wealth and power—heck, the Guardians did too.

The number of funerals in the past weeks was unbelievable. Just yesterday, they had all donned mournful black outfits and attended Lanchia's funeral.

Tsuna was taking most of the burden out of all of them. He'd hired world-class scientists, and Verde was working to solve this problem as well—everyone was doing their best to find the solution, even normally lazy and picky ones like Shamal.

Even the most stubborn of people could tell that this was a serious situation.

A notification told Tsuna that he'd received an email, and he immediately clicked on it.

 _To: Vongola Decimo_

 _From: Trident Mosquito_

 _Subject: Dying Will Disease_

At this, Tsuna frowned, but brushed the unsettling gut feeling away in favor of continuing down the email.

 _Recently, the top scientists gathered in a mass meeting to solve the new problem of powerful Flame users mysteriously dying with no detectable cause of death. After three days and nonstop hours of constant researching and experimenting, we've come to the conclusion that all these victims died from what we have named the Dying Will Disease (DWD)._

 _DWD is a new condition that has recently arisen, and while we suspect that it may be the work of someone trying to take down the entire Mafia underground organization, there is no concrete proof. However, by comparing the states of the now dead Mafioso, we are certain that there is only one explanation to their deaths: their own Dying Will Flames._

 _I assume that you are fully aware of how Dying Will Flames work, so I'll give you a more detailed description on the Flames._

 _The Lightning Arcobaleno and genius Verde revealed his years of research to us scientists, due to the upcoming threat of death by Flames. While his research is exceedingly impressive, it has also shed the light on our precarious situation regarding our late Mafioso._

 _The Flames feed off your will, which should be obvious, and also part of your life force. They're the physical embodiment of your inner strength and resolve. This, you should know. However, a secret that's been kept far away from the prying eyes of the power-hungry mafia public (in fact, it was stored in Verde's own secret lab for decades) is that Dying Will Flames are often subconsciously released, to the point where the user no longer as any power over them._

 _Verde never mentioned this to the public because he simply assumed that the Flames would leak into the air and dissipate, instead of harming the user._

 _Recent events have brought him to realize that instead of leaking out into the air, Flames like to stay inside of their user's body, flickering until their user dies and they leave, searching for a new user. That's one of the reasons why true power with Flames often skips a generation or two, because the previous user has to die before the Flames are free to seek a new user._

 _Locked Flames are a state that Flames take before the user learns how to control them properly. If the user's strong, the 'box' of sorts that the Flames stay in would serve as a way to rein in the Flames, and keep them from going wherever they like inside their user's body._

 _The thing with Flames is that they like power._

 _They always seek the more promising person, the more powerful person, because much like us, Flames like to be in a top position of power. If you're from a powerful bloodline—like you are, Decimo, since you're directly descended from Vongola Primo—there's a 95% chance that you'll be just as powerful, if not more so, than your ancestor, because their Flames like to seek out their descendants, who'd be just as powerful as their ancestors were._

 _Our most accurate hypothesis would be that the most powerful Mafioso's Flames have sensed someone even more powerful out there: and they all want to lay claim to him/her first._

 _Therefore, they begin to rebel against their user, trying to push their way out of what they now think to be a weak body. Our research noticed that all the now dead Mafioso reported to feel 'strong, much stronger now' just before they died, and our guess would be that their now wild Flames allowed them to gain greater control before finally breaking free._

 _DWD is a disease where your own Flames would eat you from inside out._

 _If our guess is correct, there's a very dangerous threat towards current Mafia society. Not only that, but if we don't find a cure… the entire Mafia Flame-using population will be wiped out very soon._

 _And the person all the Flames are flocking to? He or she will have free reign over the Earth, with no one to stop them from conquering all they need._

 _Respectfully,_

 _Trident Shamal_

Tsuna reread the email three times.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Call a meeting," he said, trying to sound calm.

"With who? Everyone."

"By everyone, I mean all the Families."

* * *

 **Teamwork**

Groups of people filed into the high-ceilinged room that had once held so many balls and celebrations filled with laughter and music, and _friends_. The chandelier sparkled in the light as well-dressed Mafioso and their wives and comrades took their seats at the many round tables situated around the room, each with dark crimson roses artfully arranged in the center as a symbol of their mourning.

The meeting hall was strangely quiet, weighed down by immeasurable grief. It was easy to start the meeting—too easy. Tsuna, who had often complained about how rowdy these multi-Family meetings were, would have given up anything for the hall to be noisy again.

Tsuna coughed, adopting his boss-mode. "Good evening, respected ladies and gentlemen," he greeted, "I am pleased to be able to bring the news that there has been a discovery."

He'd hoped for a louder reaction, one that would bring more hope to the subdued Mafioso present, but all he received was a few widening eyes and a few fists clenching in hope.

"I received an email from Trident Shamal regarding this new disease."

Whispers broke out, and Gokudera, who was seated at the closest table to his boss, was the first to speak up. "Tenth," he began hesitantly, "Why is it that only the strongest Mafioso were struck by this disease?"

"Can I answer that after a short explanation?" Tsuna smiled sadly as he received a nod from his right-hand man. "Very well." He cleared his throat again, and gestured for the projector to be turned on.

"I will give a short, summarized explanation on the reason of the Dying Will Disease, which will be abbreviated to DWD. From what Trident Mosquito's email told me, the Flames have tendencies to look for the most powerful user they can find. A powerful user can keep the Flames somewhat restrained in the 'box' of sorts that they had been Locked in, but otherwise, Flames like to be free and travel around their user's body as they wish.

Recently, however, it is suspected that a more powerful person had appeared in the Flames' radar, and all of them want to lay claim to this new person first. Now that they deem their current user weak, they rebel and fight to get out of the body, effectively eating the user from inside out and killing him."

The audience shuddered in sync and Tsuna almost laughed out loud and this small semblance to normalcy.

"That's why all the powerful Mafiosi have died in the past months." Tsuna's voice dropped lower and he sounded dejected. "Their Flames betrayed them."

"Are we in danger, then?" someone asked hesitantly.

Tsuna couldn't resist pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion as he answered, "As of now, Trident Shamal, Verde, and our best scientist are working for the cure. They have guessed that if they don't find the cure now, the entire Mafia population would be completely annihilated, one by one."

There were multiple gasps as hardened Mafiosi tried to hold themselves together at this startling new discovery.

"I thought that a person can only have one Flame type?" Gokudera asked, and the high-class crowd calmed down enough to listen to Tsuna's answer.

"It should be impossible to have more than one Flame type," Tsuna's gaze turned sharp. "If the cure isn't found and the person isn't killed, not only will we be dead but the entire world will be left to his mercy."

"You're saying…" Lambo almost looked like he was going to burst out in silent tears. "He'll literally be unstoppable?"

"We can't let that happen!" Yamamoto burst out, "It's not fair to the normal civilians of the world!"

"That's true," Tsuna agreed, smiling at his Guardians. "That's why I have sworn to myself to win this battle."

Everyone raised their glasses and cheered, and Tsuna was glad that they tried to look on the bright side of things—not that there really was any.

"We have to," Gokudera said, looking serious as he set the glass down on the table and stood up. "I'm going to go research."

Tsuna felt a surge of pride towards his Guardians and faced the room once more. "This time," he addressed them, unconsciously going into full boss-mode, "We're not just fighting for our lives. We're fighting for our world, our family, and most importantly, the world's _future_. This could be a turning point for the world as we know it—it's up to us to decide whether it shall be good or bad. Are you willing to join me?" Tsuna raised his glass of wine, and felt overwhelming relief at the cheers that echoed back.

"Let's do it together."

* * *

 **Allies**

Teamwork was something rarely seen in the shady underground Mafia society. Families liked to stay cold and aloof, preferring to keep to themselves and plot out their way to the top.

Tsuna was glad that his allied families were good people, ones that didn't do slave trading or illegal—oh, who was he kidding, the Mafia was illegal all by itself—but his allied Families didn't kill for fun or go on massacres, which Tsuna was grateful for.

They'd showed him that all of the Mafia wasn't entirely a bad place.

After the meeting most of them had come up to the Decimo and assured him that they'd try their best in this seemingly hopeless situation.

Strangely, it felt more like they were working on the right side of the law, which was an alien feeling to many people who'd been affiliated with the Mafia for the majority of their lives. Gokudera had voiced this out loud.

"We're doing something for the good of the world," he said in an awed tone.

Needless to say, Tsuna was amused. "Have you forgotten about Byakuran?" he asked, as the two strode down the corridor.

"Not as much as I'd like to," Gokudera admitted. "Still," he adopted an expression of utmost seriousness, "Is this true?"

"Which part? The Dying Will Disease, or the potential threat that's looming up in our future?"

"The threat."

"Unfortunately, both are true. It's unimaginable, isn't it? This… betraying Flames thing."

"It's definitely not something I ever imagined would happen."h

"Shamal has promised to contact me the second they find a lead."

"I hope they find one soon." Gokudera's grimace turned even darker. "I don't want to see someone die like that again."

 **Okay, so most of you probably read through this and thought, 'this is entirely wrong! That's not how Dying Will Flames work!' but I had to bend their properties a bit to fit this particular fanfic. Sorry for the confusion! Also, I think I should stick to happy stories… O~O This is way too serious for my writing style and tastes!**

 **And yes, dark crimson roses do indeed represent mourning.**


End file.
